Hare's Psychopathy Checklist Revised
by sebmoransipod
Summary: Through one of Jim's plans, Sebastian comes across a book describing the process of diagnosing a psychopath. For most, if not all of the traits, Sebastian can think of some classic examples of Jim's psychopathy.
1. Chapter 1

Sebastian sat quietly, almost sheepishly, in the psychologist's office. This was perhaps Jim Moriarty's silliest plan to date, but since Sebastian could not provide an alternative plan that did not involve hostages and/or arson, this one had to do. As per usual, this was the kind of plan that Jim could have easily done himself, but naturally, he claimed to have more important things to do. So instead, he sent Sebastian.

The man sitting opposite Sebastian was not the target. If anything, he was an innocent victim, tangled up with the wrong men. But somewhere in his room, tucked away in a specific book, was something that Jim needed. There was no need to use force. For this situation, stealth was better. The longer it took for anyone to realize the book was gone, the better. If Sebastian were to break in and steal it, the book would be the first thing these people would look for. So stealth it was.

For this appointment, Sebastian was Tim Ellicot, a struggling musician with relationship troubles. Until Sebastian could find a way to get the psychologist out of the room, he would have to play the part.

The therapist shifted in his seat, rousing Sebastian from his train of thought.

"Uh, sorry." He muttered. "What was the question?"

"It's ok, Tim. You need time to really think about this. I know this is a tough issue to face. I asked you how long you've felt trapped in the relationship with Denise." The therapist put on his most patient face, but it was not too convincing.

"About six months, maybe? I don't know…" Sebastian was never one for acting.

"You said earlier that she wants to get married. Is she pressuring you about this?"

"No, not really." Sebastian tried his hardest to keep the conversation on track, but he couldn't help but scan the bookshelves, looking for the book he needed. "Danielle's talked about it, but-"

"Danielle?"

"Yeah…Shit." Sebastian took a second to realize his mistake. How could he get something so simple as a name wrong? Jim would eat him alive for fucking this up. Before he could reach for his gun to salvage this situation, the therapist spoke.

"So there's another woman then?"

Sebastian sighed in relief, hoping it would come across as more of an uneasy, thought-gathering motion to the therapist. He nodded, wondering when this mind-numbingly dull situation would end.

"It must be tough, juggling two women in secret. Would you like to talk about it?"

Sebastian was struck with an idea. He put his head in his hands, and forced his voice into a high-pitched, almost hysterical whine. "I just don't know what to do anymore!"

The therapist looked taken aback for a moment, then smug at this new breakthrough of emotion. He gave Sebastian a pat on the shoulder. "It's ok to cry, son. It happens to the best of us."

Sebastian took this as a cue to take his performance to the next level. Head still hidden in his hands, out came the sobbing. The body-wracking, I-think-I'm-going-to-burst-a-capillary type of sobbing. He pretended to calm himself slightly, before choking out the next move in his plan. "I'm so sorry. Do you think I could have a moment alone?"

The therapist sat back in his chair. "Of course. I'll go make some tea."

The very second the door closed, Sebastian was on his feet, scrambling over chairs to get to the bookcase. He had maybe 3 minutes at the most, so he had to move fast. Frantically, he scanned the spines of the books on each shelf, looking for a black book with gold lettering. He pulled out several, before shoving them back in place after reading the title. He tried to keep them all in this original places, since the whole idea of the plot was that nothing looked out of place. On the fourth shelf down, Sebastian found the book he was looking for. He yanked it out, and shifted the books to either side slightly, to cover the gap the missing book had left. Not bothering to flick through the book, he shoved it in the backpack he had brought with him. He slung the bag over one shoulder, and charged through the door into the waiting room. He looked at the therapist, making a pot of tea in the corner, declared that he would not be returning to complete the session, and strode out of the building, not looking back.

Outside, one of Jim's cars was waiting for him. He sat in the back, and said nothing to the young, weedy little driver that regularly chauffeured him between jobs. Once the therapist's office was out of sight, Sebastian pulled the book out of his bag. _Historical Perspectives of Abnormal Psychology_, the gold letters on the cover read. Out of curiosity, Sebastian flicked through the pages. Nothing of note stuck out to him. There was no written additions, no highlighting, not even a page tucked away somewhere. Jim had purposely kept him in the dark about what exactly was in the book, so Sebastian was not surprised by this. A particular word caught his eye, and he flicked back to the page. It wasn't a code, or a secret message, just an ordinary title.

_Chapter 13: Hare's Psychopathy Checklist Revised._

This triggered a thought in Sebastian's mind. The word psychopath had been thrown around plenty of times in relation to Jim Moriarty, but it seemed like a go-to word for "crazy" these days. Was he actually a psychopath? Sebastian skimmed the text. Apparently, some person called Hare had come up with a checklist of twenty traits that a prototypical psychopath would have. Just from a quick read of the list, plenty of past experiences with Jim sprang to mind.

* * *

A/N: From here on in, each chapter will be a short, somewhat self-contained story based on each of the traits on Hare's checklist.


	2. 2: Glib and Superficial Charm

Chapter 2: Glib and Superficial Charm.

One of the most obvious traits of a psychopath is their superficial charm. Often, they are the life of the party, simply because they are not restricted by normal social etiquette, and instead choose to say whatever they feel will help them towards what they want. In a sense, their superficial charm links into many of their other traits, such as their grandiose self-worth, pathological lying, promiscuity, and manipulation of others without empathy. The most interesting aspect of a psychopath's superficial charm is that the act can be dropped as easily as it was picked up, and the act can change according to whatever the situation requires. Ultimately, it's always possible to recognise a psychopath for what they are, because no matter how good an actor they are, a person without remorse or empathy cannot hide a sense emptiness in the eyes.

* * *

Jim was, unfortunately for the rest of the world, quite a charming man. Out of the many weapons in his arsenal, social chameleonism was the most well used skill of all. He was a strange man, because it seemed as though he _needed _the socialization of dinner parties and galas, but at the same time, it was clear as day that he loathed such events, and the people who attended them. However, as soon as he walked in, Jim was in his element. If the people who crossed his path didn't know him, they soon would. Any warm body in the room was full of information ripe for his taking. While he knew that he could easily get whatever he wanted with a well-placed knife, Jim operated under the belief that you catch more flies with honey, than with vinegar. Then if the honey doesn't work, they get their fingers removed with bolt cutters. Quite simple, really.

Sebastian was quite the opposite. If it were up to him, it would be bolt cutters first, and charming animal magnetism never. He wasn't one to fuck around with conversations and flattery, which is perhaps why Jim was running a criminal empire and Sebastian was not. Brute force, while being a tried and true method, only goes so far. As Jim always said, if you start with violence, what do you build up to? How can you have a spectacular finale if the target passed out at the beginning of the interrogation? That was why Jim began with the natural charm, just so it stung so much more when he eventually fucked you over.

Regardless of their differing methods, Sebastian was still required to attend these events with Jim. Jim claimed that it was absolutely _vital_ that he had a bodyguard, but after seeing the stuffy, middle-age white collar crooks at these events, it was clear as day that Jim didn't need protection, just someone to trail behind him and look menacing. In a way, it was just another form of ego-stroking. Sebastian was still learning to appease Jim, and most of it involved playing to his whims, and a hell of a lot of ego-stroking. As long as the party had free champagne, Sebastian could deal with that.

The main reason (or so Jim claimed) for their attendance to these parties, was to build their web of information and contacts. Shady emails and phone calls didn't quite cut it when it came to international business crimes. You had to show you could walk the walk. Apparently, this involved parties, rather than business meetings. Sebastian suspected that Jim might have just liked the attention and the opportunity to woo people.

One particular night stood out to Sebastian as the most ridiculous case of needless seduction. It was the night of Halloween, but rather than a night of excessive drinking and trampy costumes, London's inner circle of crime opted for a masquerade ball, much to Sebastian's dismay. It may have had it's advantages, allowing them to move through the crowd relatively unseen, but still. Masks. Only one step away from costumes. This, of course, provoked Jim's aggressive narcissism.

The preparation for the masquerade ball went better for Sebastian than expected, simply because he was able to sit at home while Jim tore the city apart for the best possible masks. Eventually, Jim returned with two masks in a bag. One had a rustic gold tiger pattern, and the other was a deep blue, with peacock-coloured accents. Clearly, Jim found this amusing. Sebastian, not so much.

It was not until the night of the ball that Sebastian was informed that this party was in fact a job. It seemed simple enough. Find the target, steal their necklace. To Sebastian, the most obvious strategy would be to snatch it and run. Jim preferred other, sneakier methods.

The target was a woman called Clarice Marchetta. The wife of a much older man in the business of financial fraud. From what Sebastian had put together, the necklace was stolen from an American, and had passed through many hands, just to end up on the neck of Ms. Marchetta, who was now in plain sight of Sebastian. Even with an elaborate feathered mask, waist length brunette curls and a gaggle of fawning women made her stand out from the crowd. Sure enough, they were admiring the tanzanite and diamond necklace.

Sebastian tapped Jim on the wrist and nodded in their direction. Jim watched for a moment, then gestured for Sebastian to watch from afar. This was Sebastian's cue to begin his own personal hunt for a waiter with champagne.

Jim sidled towards the group of women, putting on his most trusting smile. He didn't want to go for overconfidence just yet, but more of a relaxed aloofness. Rather than going for the target, he instead bee lined for one of her friends on the outer edge of the group. With barely a pause, he seized her hand and dragged her to the dance floor.

"Care to dance?" He said to her.

"Well, we're already here, so I don't have a choice, do I?" She giggled.

"Of course not." Jim's nice-guy personality was on, and it wasn't going to come off until he had what he wanted.

Holding his third glass of champagne for the night, Sebastian watched Jim drag the woman onto the dance floor. He felt nothing but utter bewilderment. He hoped to get Jim's attention and remind him of what he was actually supposed to be doing, until he remembered the ridiculous mask he was wearing, which made it difficult to display any sort of questioning expression.

Jim danced with the woman, smiling underneath the mask. Internally, he wondered if it came off as more of a grimace, but the woman seemed to be perfectly happy. He was plying her with seemingly innocent questions. Asking her what she did as a job, whether she was married, then moving on to her friendship with the Marchetta family. The woman, Aileen, gave up information far too willingly. She was an heiress of a printing company that was well known for bribery acceptance. This worked perfectly for Jim. This Aileen woman was clearly not opposed to crime, but she was far enough removed from the underworld to not recognize Jim. His ego flared for a moment, what person in the London crime web doesn't know Jim Moriarty? A naïve idiot, apparently. Aileen had made it quite clear that she was single, and that her father had been heavily suggesting she find a husband. This would be simple.

They danced, they laughed, she got comfortable. Jim made sure her glass never became empty. By midnight, her hair was falling out of it's top knot and her head was on his shoulder. He was practically holding her up. Taking her by the hand once again, Jim led her to a table in one of the far corners of the room and sat her down.

By this point, Sebastian had given up chasing booze and short skirts. He was bored out of his mind, and no amount of appetizers would satiate his gnawing hunger. The champagne was as weak as cat's piss, and Jim had refused to let Sebastian bring a flask. He sat at a table in a shadowy corner, dejected. As he scanned the guests of the party, he kept an eye on the target. All night, Jim didn't even attempt to talk to the woman with the necklace. Sebastian figured that there was a plan at work, so he made no move to disturb it. He would only consider moving in if the lady tried to leave, which by the looks of it, was not going to happen any time soon.

Out of the crowd emerged Jim, with the other lady trailing behind. They sat at a nearby table. Far enough away to talk openly, but not too far away for Sebastian to be able to hear.

Jim leaned in towards Aileen and spoke in a somber tone. "I need to tell you why I'm really here."

Both Aileen, and in the distance Sebastian, perked up at this. "Is something wrong?" Aileen reached out a hand to touch Jim, but he shied away from her hand. Jim could practically hear Sebastian rolling his eyes from the next table.

"I need your help, Aileen." Jim wouldn't meet her eyes, instead looking down at his hands in his lap.

In another life, Jim Moriarty should have been an actor. Sebastian watched this woman lap up the act. To him, it was a classic sort of performance that brought out the maternal side of any woman. A man spends all night wooing her, then uses his best puppy dog eyes to tell his tragic story of how hard-done-by he was, and how he needed her help. Just like that, any female's legs would spread like butter. But that didn't seem to be what Jim was after tonight.

Jim made some very strategic eye contact with Aileen. "I've had something stolen from me, and I think you could help me get it back."

Her wide-eyed gasp told him that she was rapt.

"It's a family heirloom. It's been in my family for at least three generations, and then about two months ago, it was stolen during a dinner party at the family estate."

"That's awful! But… what am I supposed to do?" Aileen looked genuinely upset. It took everything Jim had to not laugh in her face.

"Well, we had a good idea of who might have stolen it. I came here tonight to ask them about it. Then, when I arrive, the first thing I see is Ms. Marchetta wearing it around her neck."

Aileen looked over at Marchetta in horror. "The necklace? She said it was a gift from her husband."

Jim shook his head. "It was never his to give away. I need you to talk to her. Explain the situation. I don't want to have to go through the police, because that's just going to tarnish everybody's reputation."

Aileen was clearly terrified, but still listening.

Jim sighed. "Please, Aileen." He reached for her hand. "Whatever you have to do to get it back, I'll be right by you. Even if it gets out of hand, I have the means to make sure you're looked after."

Aileen sat back in her chair, still with her eyes on Marchetta and the necklace. "All right. I'll get it back. I don't want to do it here though, can you wait until after the party?"

Jim's eyes lit up. Whether that was part of the act, or just the master manipulator inside him, Sebastian didn't know. Either way, it was unnerving. Jim hastily pulled a piece of paper out of his wallet, and scribbled down an address and phone number.

"Any time, Aileen. Just call me as soon as you get it back, and I'll meet you there." He said.

She gave him a strained and almost tearful smile. Before Jim could thank her and leave, she tore his mask off and kissed him full on the mouth.

Sebastian heard the conversation coming to an end, and hastily stood up and made his way back into the party. It would be far too obvious if he and Jim both left the tables at the same time, and he didn't want to have to hang around any longer. He sent the driver a text to wait out the front, and made his way towards the exit.

Sebastian was out the front of the building, cigarette in hand, as Jim appeared by his side. At the sight of a mask-less Jim, Sebastian tore his off and threw it straight into the nearby bin. They stood in silence for a moment, before Jim turned to him.

"She touched me, Sebastian." Jim was seething with rage.

"I saw her getting all handsy with you, Boss. You might need to work on covering up the disgust though." Sebastian smirked.

"No, it wasn't just the hands. She fucking kissed me."

"What?" Sebastian couldn't help but laugh. "I thought you weren't into girls?"

"I'm not! I'm not _into_ anything!" Jim had reached the level of anger that Sebastian found more entertaining than any TV show. The wild flailing and hand gestures had begun, and it was quickly accompanied by a vocal rollercoaster and strange voice imitations and pacing in odd the shape of a scalene triangle. As the car arrived, he had settled into his more usual head oscillations.

For most of the drive home, they had sat in silence. Eventually, Sebastian looked at Jim.

"Do you think that woman will get the necklace back?"

"Of course she will. I spent all night telling her how influential my imaginary family was. I don't know what means she'll use, but she expects that she'll be handsomely rewarded for her efforts."

"Let me guess, the only reward is a bullet between the eyes."

"Of course."

* * *

A/N: Sorry, it took be a bit longer than expected to write since it ended up being twice the length I anticipated. On another note, I'm starting a journey of how many ways I can spell "Sebastian" wrong. My favourite so far: sBASTINA.


End file.
